


By Blade of Honor

by Plain_White_Coffee



Category: For Honor (Video Game)
Genre: A Merchant's Tale, Ashfeld, Eventual Romance, F/M, Myre, Third Person POV, after main story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-13 16:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plain_White_Coffee/pseuds/Plain_White_Coffee
Summary: Ernest Deleur, a young man who's dreams of becoming a soldier were crushed by the end of the War of Millennium, turns his sights on becoming a wealthy merchant in the, now thriving peace of the three great factions.At least that was what he had planned.By now, he has sunken deep within a heavy debt that he can't seem to escape. His wares simply don't catch anyone's interest wherever he goes. As his deadline looms closer than ever and at his wits end, he decides to visit the legendary Walled City of Okina Shikiri, as his last resort of making steel to pay off his debt. The only problem is, no outsider has ever set foot in the sacred city.





	1. The Demon of Okina Shikiri

Three years ago, the great war had ended with a truce between the three factions. Now, things were mellower. Peaceful and quiet. Something that every warrior on the battlefield hoped to achieve through a millennium of bloodshed.

Now travellers and merchants easily cross borders, sporting goods distinctive to each faction. But, perhaps bloodshed and war would have made living far more meaningful than it is now.

Sighing in resignation, a merchant slowly moved his way down a grass infested dirt road. What nonsense to wish for war just when long awaited peace had just arrived. In possession of various Ashfeld goods, he, a simple merchant was trying to become the next lord of a manor. Borrowing tens of thousands of steel in hopes of making profit through sales. Though he hasn’t sold anything as of yet, and his loan payment deadline was nearing.

Smiling bitterly he continued onwards on his journey. The destination was the Walled City of Okina Shikiri, a city of wealth and power, closely allied with Empress Ayu and the palace. He had never wanted to go so far into the Myre, but desperately he needed the steel to pay off his loan and no merchant has ever set foot in the Walled City anyway. Easy profit in anyone's book.

Optimistic for his business opportunity he cheered up a little as he approached the entrance of the city, he could seek shelter for the night at last.

A towering gate stood on the grassy path, blocking any entry into the city. Flakey red paint still vibrant in the brilliant sunlight of noon, seemingly ancient dull golden knobs line the face of the gate. However, much to his despair, a large lock could be seen on the gate, with no one in sight to open it.

The merchant huffed. There was no way he was giving up now. He marched up to the gate, his bag of goods clinking, as he pounded on the door with his fist.

“Hello! I’m a merchant hailing from Ashfeld! I would like to offer my wares to your people!”

Silence.

He pounded on the door some more.

“Please open the door! I mean no harm!”

“It’s not going to open for you merchant.”

The merchant whipped around to see who spoke to him, his face paled as he saw a fully armored samurai. How did he not hear them approaching?

Judging by the voice, he would have to say that the samurai was female. An orochi most likely, he eyed the katana hanging loosely on her belt warily. The thing that startled him was the red smiling oni mask that she sported on the bottom half of her face, it’s teeth wickedly curved and pointy.

His palms began sweating.

“Uh uhm, who are you?” he tried to keep his voice steady, refusing to allow the woman to know how intimidated he was.

“Oh?”, she seemed to deliberately think for a moment before answering, “You may call me Monei, I am the Demon of Okina Shikiri.” Her voice was lilting and low, almost seductive.

The merchant stood in stunned silence. The demon of Okina Shikiri? Had he not been scared out of his wits, he would have found the woman deathly attractive.

There was an awkward silence.

“It’s rude to not introduce yourself after asking for a name”, Monei folded her arms over her chest, “Then again, I don’t expect very much from an Ashfelder.”

She was clearly gouging for some sort of reaction. Probably looking for a good reason to cut him down. He wouldn’t give her the pleasure.

“Hmm? No answer I see,” She tapped the surface of her oni mask, musing, “Are you perhaps thinking that you can get through this gate and enter the city?” There was a mocking in her voice, her chocolate brown eyes filled with mirth.

The merchant fidgeted with his sash, with the way things were going, he would never be able to get into the city.

“O-of course not…” He trailed off, averting his eyes as he tried to think up a semi-acceptable method to get past this obstacle.

Maybe he could try to impress her with his wares?

Reaching into his worn leather satchel, the man pulled out a scroll of rolled up paper. It was tattered and barely legible.

Monei raised an amused brow, waiting for some sort of explanation.

“Er, this is a list of my general wares.”

The Ashfelder felt a bead of sweat run down his cheek as silence ensued once again.

The masked woman hummed and took the piece of paper in between her index and middle finger. “I don’t suppose you think that I would be impressed by your crude knight trinkets.” She glanced at the contents before throwing the paper aside, earning a gasp from the young man.

“What are you doing!?” He reached his arm out futility in an attempt to retrieve the parchment, only to wince as the samurai harshly grabbed his wrist. He watched with a pit in his stomach as the paper fluttered out of sight, carried away by the gentle breeze.

The merchant struggled for a bit before giving, his shoulders drooped in defeat. That piece of paper was the only proof of ownership he had over the items in his possession.

“Please I-”

“Save your pity story, you’re only wasting your breath.” She threw his arm aside and shoved him into the city gate, “However,” her eyes traced the long smoking pipe dangling from his hip, “I may be able to make you an exception…”

A feeling of dread settled in as he followed her gaze to what she was looking at.

It was his family heirloom, the final memory of his late father.

“A-anything but that.”

She narrowed her eyes in amusement and placed a finger under the man’s chin, “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood to bargain.” She murmured dangerously.

The merchant felt a lump in his throat as he considered his meagre options. It was either he refused and walked away a dead man, or accept and enter the city, earning enough to pay off his debt.

He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth. He had no other choice. He was afraid to die in the hands of his debt collectors. There was only one final method he could try in order to lose nothing.

“Let’s make a bet…” He whispered, too afraid to raise his voice.

It took a moment for the woman to fully register his words before she barked out a laugh of surprise, her armor clinked at the sudden movement.

“You have my interest now sir merchant.” She tapped the hilt of her katana in idle curiosity, “What will be the stakes?”

The man’s shoulders relaxed a bit at her positive response. There really was a chance for this to go well.

“If I earn 5000 steel by the end of the month, I get my pipe back.”

“And if you don’t?”

“If I don’t then…” He thought for a moment, “Then I leave the city and never come back.” he said resolutely.

Monei eyed him for a moment before nodding once, apparently satisfied, “Fair enough,” she extended a gauntleted hand, “Let’s shake on it.”

The merchant smiled in relief and clasped his hand into hers, “I won’t lose.”

She chuckled at the change in attitude, “Just because we came to an agreement, doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“Ernest Deleur.”

“Hmm?”

“My name is Ernest Deleur.”


	2. A Battle Under Blazing Skies

“Milord,” a shadow hunched down before a silken curtain as a form shifted from behind it, “I was able to identify the trespasser.”

The small laugh of a boy was heard from within the veil, “Take care of him as you’d desire. All we need is the pipe.”

There was a small pause as the shadow did not answer.

“Is there a problem?”

The man’s shoulders tensed, his eyes flitted up to glance at his lord in unease, “He has entered the Demon’s Domain sire...”

“What of it?” the young lord sounded impatient, “Are you telling me that you can not take care of one measly samurai? How do you expect to overthrow the empire if you are frightened by a simple gatekeeper?”

The dark room was quiet once more, only the sounds of distant soldiers could be heard. 

Finally the man spoke.

“Understood.” He stood up slowly and bowed, “Your will shall be carried out to my utmost.”

With that, he backed away into the shadows, disappearing without a trace.

* * *

Monei sat on the steps leading to the city gates. The sun hung lazily in the afternoon sky, orange light bathing the surrounding bamboo forest as if a blaze of fiery hate had struck the ambient serenity that it contained. The gatekeeper stared up at the sky idly, tapping the hilt of her sword in boredom. 

“What brings you here to my city?” She stopped tapping her fingers and turned her head to look behind her, “Are you lost perhaps?”

A man in black chortled, seemingly having appeared with the wind, “Maybe so.” he replied, approaching the samurai, he sat down beside her, “Have you seen a foreigner around here?”

“A foreigner you say? Why yes I have.”

“Might I ask where he is?”

“Of course.”

She said no more afterwards. Some flock of birds flew by, their cheerful song interrupting the silence.

With a sudden movement the cloaked man drew a dagger and moved in for her throat. His blade missed just barely as she casually leaned back to avoid the strike.

“How predictable...” She murmured.

The assassin sprung from his perch in shock and backpedalled to a safe distance, eyeing his opponent with new reverence.

“It’s no wonder they called you a monster on the battlefield dear Monei, it looks like the rumors were true.”

“Say what you wish, I’m just glad my blade can taste blood once more.” She chirped, her Oni mask smiled wickedly as she drew her long idle blade, “Let’s see if my skills have dulled.”

“Yes, let’s.”

The man in black threw his dagger aside and quickly drew a pair of kusarigama, the chains clinked with each breeze that blew by. Twirling the ball end, he threw it like a projectile, aimed for his opponent’s head.

Monei’s eyes narrowed in amusement, she ducked under the chain and lunged toward the assassin, slashing at his stomach. The tip of her sword successfully came in contact with him, but something was wrong. Sidestepping, she eyed the ‘wound’ she had just inflicted, a glimmer of metal shone with the light as he turned to face her.

“Ha!” The man opened the torn fabric to reveal a steel plate of some sort protecting his torso, “This is the most recent example of Ashfeld blacksmithing! Your pathetic sword cannot even scratch me.”

“Interesting...” The samurai examined her blade for any blemishes on its pristine surface, “I’m quite surprised, but some plate armor won’t protect you from me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Their weapons clashed once more, each warrior matching step by step as if they were entranced in a well choreographed dance. With every swing, there was a parry, with every dodge, there was a follow up. The two were inseparable, no room for interruption.

The demon back stepped, a sudden break from their routine, reaching behind her back she produced a small mirror, barely reflecting the sunlight at just the right angle, the cloaked man blinked. In that very instant, Monei swept his legs from underneath his own body, the man fell with a grunt his steel plate clanked dully against the stone pathway.

“It’s over.” She said, her breathing heavy.

The fallen man guffawed, his teeth bloody, “I suppose it is.” His hand tugged on a small piece of twine hidden under his sash, “Long live the Kurotora!”

An explosion whose flames matched the color of the sun erupted from the assassins chest cavity, sending countless shards of shrapnel in all directions. Monei flinched and quickly lept out of the way, using her left arm to cover her face. She hissed in pain as the sharp jagged steel caught her left thigh. The dust and smoke soon settled, revealing the bloody charred remains of what was once a man, his upper body completely torn away from his legs, a mangled head rolled some ways before tumbling down the steps, leaving a dotty bloody trail in its wake.

The samurai slumped to the ground, her armor in shambles from the explosion. An ugly piece of metal stuck out from her leg, blood threatening to spill out, blockaded by the foreign object embedded in her wound. Tenderly brushing her fingertips over her injury, she grimaced a smirk, “The Kurotora he says,” a small laugh escaped her lips, “I can’t wait to see what that Ashfelder dragged me into.”

Her words fell on deaf ears, with only the thicket and the crimson gate to hear her woes.

* * *

  
“The plan failed sire... ”

“I’m well aware.”

Two figures stood by a corner of an unknown building, the moonlight bathed their surroundings in an eerie glow. The young noble furrowed his brows in frustration, one of their better shinobi lost to a gatekeeper of all things. To think that she would avoid the bomb as well... 

“What is our next plan?” The servant's voice sounded gruff and tired. That of an older man.

“Send in another one. We need that Ashfelder captured immediately.”

The taller figure curtly nodded, “Understood.” 

“If the plan fails again. You’re going in next.”

“I will ensure that it doesn’t come to that...”

“Good.”


	3. Unexpected Aid

Ernest chewed his breakfast slowly, lost in thought. A few days after his arrival into Okina Shikiri a small explosion occurred just outside of the city gates. Apparently the gatekeeper on watch was Monei, who was injured in the explosion. He wasn’t sure why, but the news had jarred him despite not having much of an amicable relationship with the woman.

The merchant sighed and took a drink of water to chase down his meal. Speaking of which, he still hadn’t even begun selling his wares because he was too afraid of requesting for a sales permit without his ownership papers. As such, he had no choice but to loaf around in an inn until he came up with a plan.

Ernest had considered bribing whoever was in charge but didn’t have the gall to do it. He wasn’t sure what kind of person the official was, and could easily end up getting arrested for acting so shadily.

He poked at his food in dread, there was no way he could get a permit by asking nicely. Even if it was wrong, committing a crime was better than dying at the hands of his debt collectors. 

Unfortunately, Ernest didn’t have much steel on him in the first place so the likelihood of getting the permit was still dire anyway.

Perhaps he could give the official one of his more expensive wares. He had a ceremonial Ashfeld dagger that was one of a kind, it would probably be well received by anyone interested in decorational weaponry. Setting steel on the table to pay for his meal, Ernest went up to his room to fetch the item. It was a bit of a waste to give the dagger away, but once again, he didn’t have much of a choice.

The merchant sorted his things and found the item in question. It’s shiny scabbard practically glowed under the sunlight filtering through the windows. Unsheathing it, he was greeted by a bejeweled blade with intricate gold lined embossing. It was beautiful and one of his prized wares. 

Returning the blade into its sheath, he hid the dagger inside the back of his sash. His plan would be too obvious if he strut into the department with such an expensive looking item on hand. If anything, it could be confiscated under the guise of attempted assassination of the official.

Exiting the inn, he squeezed through the bustling streets, Ernest made it to his destination in almost no time. The building in front of him was made completely of stone, much like the majority of the architecture in the walled city. He walked into the main lobby where a woman sat behind a large counter looking through some papers. Luckily not many people were requesting permits so early in the morning so he could get a meeting quickly.

“Hi, I’m here for a sales permit?”

The woman glanced up at him, eyes widening at the sight of a foreigner. She quickly recovered, blushing at her lack of manners and responded in accented English, “Uhm… yes… I’ll let the lord know right away.”

She took one final look at him before disappearing around the corner.

Ernest tapped the surface of the wooden counter as he waited, he had gotten used to the looks of wonder his appearance got him around the second day inside the city. It wasn’t really much of a surprise since Okina Shikiri was known for its closed off and secure nature. It was a miracle that he was allowed entry just by betting away his pipe in the first place.

“Please follow me.”

The merchant smiled gratefully at the lobbyist and followed not too far behind her as she led him through a well lit hallway. The walls were adorned with swords, bows, spears and various weapons used for battle. It seemed that bringing a ceremonial dagger was the right choice after all. 

When they arrived at the office door, the woman knocked gently before sliding the door open with a bow.

Ernest stepped inside as the lobbyist left. The official sat in a chair with a large desk in front of him, the interior design was surprisingly reminiscent of Ashfeld architecture. It put him slightly at ease knowing that the lord had a liking to Ashfeld furnishings at the very least.

“I am Matahachi Ryo, I hear you’re here for a sales permit?” His voice was deep and curt, giving off a sort of no nonsense attitude.

Ernest fidgeted with his sash and glanced around the room awkwardly, “Yes…”

“Do you have the necessary papers?”

The official gestured for Ernest to sit down at the desk, in which he obliged.

“Er, no I misplaced them on my journey to this city, but I’m an honest salesman, I swear on my name!” he assured.

The Myrian man hummed as if in thought, but his eyes were as focused as ever. He didn’t look like the type to be easily lied to, much less bribed.

“What’s your name?”

“Ernest Deleur.”

“I thought so.”

The merchant opened his mouth to say something before biting it back as the official’s words set in.

“You know me?”

Matahachi nodded firmly, “The gatekeeper who let you in came to me after her shift to tell me about your situation.”

“Sh-she did?”

Ernest didn’t expect this turn of events at all, if anything, he thought that Monei didn’t want to return his pipe as per their agreement. To think she went out of her way to help him of all things.

“Then… am I granted permission?”

“Yes,” Matahachi pulled out two sheets of paper and slid them across the desk, “These are your ownership papers and sales permit.”

“Thank you,” he looked over the stamped sales permit and then the ownership paper. Something wasn’t right…

Pocketing the permit, he carefully examined the ownership paper, it wasn’t the one he had lost, but a completely new one.

“Is something wrong?”

“Er, no no everything’s fine,” Ernest got up and gave a small bow to Matahachi before preparing to leave, “Thank you again.”


End file.
